The White Wolf
by aprilrosequartz
Summary: Desmond Miles sacrificed his life to save the world from ending. However, nothing had ever been easy for him. This time, he will see through challenges with wolf eyes.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: The author does not own anything.**

 **Prologue**

* * *

The first thing he noticed, was that everything smelled so earthy and wet. Probably it just rained a moment ago. His body ached, however, it felt utterly strange. The blood on the right side of his face, slid down on to his right eye, all the way to his chin.

 _'Something's wrong.'_

With much effort, Desmond opened his heavy eyes. Dark brown dirt greeted him, as the grass tickled his nose. The whole area was filled with grass and tall trees. He could hear the birds chirping from above, as the night welcomed the forest with the moon's light embrace.

 _'How the hell did I end up here?'_

Desmond gritted his teeth, the strange pain booming in his arm caught the former bartender's attention. His eyes darted down, as the sight of a dark grey paw greeted him, he widen his eyes. The man yelped, ending up hitting behind his head by a tree. Desmond hissed with pain, as it surge through him like a wave.

His breath came out in quick puffs. Once the pain faded into a dull throb, he took a look at himself again. Every part of him was covered in white fur, literally.

 _'What the hell?'_

Desmond's brows furrowed, not clearly understanding how on earth he became something like this, whatever he just turned into. Since he was busy figuring out where he was, he did not notice his increased of senses. More usual than not, Desmond would had a hard time seeing in the dark. Albeit the moon was up and full, the man could see every shadowed corner. As well as his hearing increased as well, the thumping of a herd of dear was miles away, yet he could hear them closely.

 _'This is really weird.'_

He glanced down at his hands– _paws_ , again, and sniffed it (huh, was that he really smelled like?). He remembered placing his right hand on the pedestal, back at the temple, and ended up killing him. The mark of a burned flesh was still present, it went up all the way to his furry elbow. Desmond was all covered in white fur, what animal he turned into, was beyond him. Although this could be a dream, an extremely strange dream.

Desmond could not move, his muscles were still painfully weak, and some parts of him were still bleeding. He looked around, and saw no one. Although a few animals were scattered feets away, but the matter did not seem important to Desmond. An animal would not do any help. Desmond hoped he would not start talking to animals now, cause that would just take the cake.

The former bartender sighed, but it ended up as a whimper in his ears. Figures, animals do not sigh, which proved his thought about being turned into one. His stomach began to known it's presence by growling, there was not that much he could do, except laying on the dirt.

 _'Atleast the others made it out okay.'_

He wondered if Juno did kept her promise. She should, otherwise Desmond will make her pay by any means. He could not do anything at the moment, so he just sat there.

His ear twitched when he heard footsteps from his right side. 10 feet– no, it was coming towards him. Desmond would have leapt to his feet, but in this situation, he was vulnerable. Just as the voices drew near, another sound suddenly erupted. The man-turned-animal could not help but jumped at the sound of gunshots, as a couple of red coats ran passed by, oblivious of Desmond.

"Stop right there!"

It was either Desmond was in an area where a movie set was currently filming, or he had teleported through time. He preferred the former, really. The sound of guns and metal clashing were just seven feet away, as well was the slicing through flesh, stabs into the body, and fists making contact to the face. Everything. He could not stop the shiver and the urge to vomit, when the slice went through the man's stomach, spilling his insides out.

With what was left of his strength, the former human crawled into the bush, hid his body, and watched the deadly battle scene before him.

The man in the hood ducked an axe, and swiftly aimed his tomahawk on the man's shoulder, ending his life in seconds. Before he stepped on the other men's foot, and screamed in pain which turned into a bloody gurgle, as the hooded man sliced his rib cage. There were three more men left. Both at the same time, the redcoats aimed their swords, but they were no match as the man in the hood avoided the hits, before effortlessly released his hidden blades deep into their throats. With one more redcoat left, the hooded man ran forward. He aimed his gun at him, and since Desmond was just below the redcoat's feet, he sunk his teeth into the man's leg like a beef steak. He screamed in surprised, pain, and horror, as the man in the hood silenced the redcoat by jumping on him and stabbed his head.

Silence.

The former bartender could taste the blood left in his mouth, but his attention was elsewhere. Desmond did not bother to hide his body more under the bush, he was not in any condition to move a single muscle any way. Besides, the other had probably already noticed his presence. He waited, as the man crouched down, and finally took a look on his face. He dressed exactly like his ancestor, or, it could be his ancestor.

"Hello."

 _'Hey.'_

Desmond could only stare. His ancestor-look-alike moved to grab something in his bag, and took out–

 _'Dear meat? What am I, a predator?'_

The man did not really expect Desmond to eat that. He was proven wrong when he placed the food just a few feet away, and stayed in a crouched position. Desmond could not completely move anymore.

The man's lips turned into a frown.

"Don't be scared."

He was not actually scared. Desmond tried again, and ordered every part of his muscles to obey him. Finally, he managed to barely crawl out of the bush, and into the light. The man in the hood perked up, his posture seemed like he saw something peculiar. Desmond really wanted to take a look at himself now.

The man stared at him, as his face turned into one of alarm.

"You're hurt."

Desmond could only stare back, it took a huge amount of effort just to stay awake for the last few minutes. But this time, he could not help it when he felt his muscles gave up, and his world turned black.

* * *

 ** _To be continued.._**

 **A/N: Happy** **new year.** **I'm not really sure if I should finish this..**


	2. Chapter 1 - Aided

**Chapter 1:**

 **Aided**

* * *

It was sometime afternoon. The birds were chirping, the flowers were blooming. In just a few feet away, was the river, as the wind carried a warm breeze. The former human was woken up by the sun's heated light.

Nothing changed. Desmond laid the same place before he lost consciousness. His ancestor left him, and took the deer meat with him as well. He was hungry, and the man left him to die. Desmond was an animal in his eyes anyway. Although he did bandaged his paw before he left, that was something at least. Looking up, he saw the blue sky, around him were huge trees.

 _'Time to get moving.'_

Minerva never clearly explained them the reasons of their mission, as long as they get the job done. Not just her, but Juno, Pluto, and the other first civilization people. He was sick of it, he literally died in order to save the world, brought back alive in a time he was not even born yet, and in an animal's skin. They would never outright say what they wanted, instead, they had to figure it out for themselves. Desmond released Juno, so supposedly, he finished his mission. He hoped the others were safe. Desmond swore, if he ever encounters those people from the first civilization again, he was going to get some answers instead of beating around the bush.

With shaking limbs, the former bartender slowly stood up, white paws barely firm on the ground. He was extremely hungry, and in greatly need of water. The possibility of dying from starvation stuck in his mind, and with newfound effort, Desmond intended to trust his instincts more. Ever since he turned into an animal, he could smell things he never knew before. It had not rain, yet he could clearly smell the dirt, hear the squirrels running twenty feet above him, or the river stream from miles away. His first priority was to get hydrated, with that in mind, he trudged forward to the sound of running water. Desmond was not worried at all of getting attacked by animals, as with the help of his greatly increased senses, he could easily avoid them.

Desmond's ear twitched at a voice nearby, he crouched. Slowly, the former human made his way to a bush, and saw a group of templars chatting with themselves, a single campfire at the center. They were cooking a huge chunk of deer meat, which caused Desmond's mouth to water, eyes fully focused on the food. So big, juicy, and smelled so extremely good.

His stomach began to growl like crazy, catching the templars' attention.

"What was that?"

 _'Shit!'_ Desmond cursed himself and moved to hide his body more under the bush. He prayed his stomach would stop making noises, otherwise he was dead meat.

"It was probably nothing."

A lot of animals lived in the woods, besides, they knew how to fight when an animal does appear. They went back to talking, as the former bartender mentally sighed in relief.

 _'Phew, that was close.'_ Shaun would have called him an idiot. It was not his fault, he was hungry. _Extremely_ hungry.

They were at least ten templars, who were armed with muskets and weapons. If ever he was discovered, there was no doubt that the former human would easily get hurt. Desmond could not fight in his current state, so hunting for himself was out of the question. Unless, his ancestor would come back and give him food, but Desmond could not waste time waiting. He was getting more dehydrated by the second, and felt like passing out. He just needed to wait for the right time.

Desmond slowly crawled closer, dreading every second of the thought of his stomach growling like an elephant again, which would greatly jeopardize his hiding this time. When his eyes started getting heavier, he panicked, and bit his uninjured paw. The sleepiness faded away slightly in exchange for pain, keeping him awake.

"Could it be a fake one? Like the others?"

Desmond paid them no mind. The templars were busy talking among themselves, not noticing the crawling white animal behind them. Just a few feet more.

"Not sure, that's why we're giving it to the boss. He has a knack for telling which are fake and which are not."

The novice assassin was just a few inches away from his target, and the delicious aroma was stronger than before. Desmond let himself drool, not caring one bit. He opened his mouth, full of sharp fangs.

 _'Almost there. Please don't turn around.'_

Desmond quietly sunk his teeth in the meat. Immediately, the sweet juices flowed into his mouth, causing the former bartender to make an appeasing sound. However, this interrupted the templars' discussion, attention fully on the animal now.

"Hey!"

No other choice, he sunk his teeth deeper and started running. It was a lot harder than it looked, Desmond was running in all threes and the templars were closing in on him. There were too many, and they were hitting their muskets at him but he was a lot faster. Desmond did not had any strength left, and his vision had started to swim, making the world tilting sideways, leaving him the urge to vomit of what was left in his stomach.

 _'This isn't good.'_ He mentally cringed.

Desmond was literally shaking with exhaustion, which was not a good sign at all. Due to this, he was too late to dodge the incoming hit of a musket, dropping the cooked meat in the process, and painted the ground with his own blood. His last resort would be the cause of his death. Unable to avoid any hits, Desmond waited for the second strike that would surely end his life. However, nothing came. Instead, the templar fell down dead beside him, a single arrow sticking out from his back.

Despite the headache, and the blood running from the side of his face, Desmond looked up. They weren't looking at him anymore, but from the hooded man who just killed one of them. Just like from last night, the man avoided and striked without any effort, clearly they were no match for him.

Desmond glanced down at the dead man beside him, who carried a package that held the map they were discussing earlier. It was probably important to them, as well to his ancestor.

A templar moved to grab it, but the former human was faster. The man snarled at the animal, and Desmond ran. He looked back, he was gaining on him, musket in hand. Before the man could hit him with it, his ancestor stabbed him from behind. Desmond widened his eyes, he had killed all ten templars. There were blood on his robes, and was breathing fast, making him look angry. If looks could kill, Desmond was sure he would be dead right now. He was chasing after Desmond, tomahawk in hand with that scary scowl on his face, every move screamed murder. The novice assassin's inner instinct urged him to run faster, as he had the feeling that getting caught by the man was far more terrifying than getting killed by templars. With a new rush of adrenaline, Desmond ran faster than he ever had before.

 _'Are you kidding me?!'_

The former human knew his ancestor would be able to catch up quickly, Desmond had lost most of his strength, but he was willing to do anything than getting caught by the man. He knew he only needed the package, but he was terrified that he sunk his teeth dipper into the cloth. Desmond's body ached, needing rest. He stopped in his tracks when a bear appeared from the bushes, standing tall with his two feet, and growled at the white animal. He accidentally ran into the bears' territory, a couple more bears appeared, all huge with sharp claws and teeth. They were not happy to see him. Desmond could understand what they were saying, and they were going to kill him if he does not leave as soon as possible.

The former human quickly dashed to the side, but was instantly stopped by the animal. The other bears moved closer, trapping him in a corner. However, before they could touch him, the master assassin appeared between Desmond and the angry animals. One charged forward, he dodged a deadly swipe of claws, then stabbed it's side. Avoided another incoming hit, and stabbed it again with his hidden blade. This went on until he had weakened the bear, and killed it. The second bear ran at the assassin, furiously intending to kill the man. While his ancestor was busy, the third bear sneaked behind his back. It was time for Desmond to help him.

The novice assassin ran to the front of the animal, bearing his own sharp teeth at the other and growled. The bear growled back, furious and raised it's huge paw, aiming it down at the former bartender. Desmond saw this coming and avoided the hit, before dashing forward to bite it's leg. The bear howled in pain, lost it's balance, and fell to the ground. His ancestor dodged another hit, then sunk his blade into the animal's head. He panted, before glancing at the bear, who was growling at the white animal. The man went to it's side, and swiftly ended it's suffering.

On instinct, Desmond licked his injured paw. Some of the bandages came loose during the chase and the fight, showing his burnt skin. Paying mind to his unhealed wound, he made his way to where he had dropped the package, and gave it to the man. His ancestor's eyes widened in shock, as he took it from the animal. The assassin narrowed his eyes, opened the package and grabbed the item inside, before studying the map. The silence lasted for five minutes, before the man glanced down at him. His face was not angry anymore, but one he could not decipher.

 _'This is crazy. Why am I here? Not to mention, in an animal's body.'_ He glanced at his ancestor. _'I don't think he has answers though. If only he could understand me..'_

With the sound of a hidden blade being released, Desmond feared the man was going to kill him. Instead, he began skinning the dead bears. He worked quietly, only the cutting of flesh was heard. Desmond went back to licking the blood off him.

The former human had not had a bath since, well, since he went into the animus and finally found the key. A long bath would be nice, instead of licking his blood off him with his tongue. After two hours of slicing, Connor finally had three sets of bear pelts with him, along with the bears' insides. He faced the wolf.

"Can you.." The man hesitated, before his face filled with determination. "Can you understand me?"

It must had been in his mind this whole time. Sure, Desmond was originally a human. It must be strange, that an animal would take a package from a group of men, and even helped him fight bears. If that happened to him, Desmond would think it as ridiculous. As well as an animal giving him a package which it clearly had no use for. It was impossible, just as it was impossible for him to be still alive after he sacrificed himself to save the world. Without missing a beat, Desmond nodded.

—

Everything that happened left Desmond with goosebumps. If he explained his situation to someone, no one would believe him. He was not even sure if his ancestor would believe him, if he had been human. Instead, he would see him as someone who escaped a mental asylum. He wondered, as of why he would always get into these kind of situations. Back then, when Desmond was still reliving his ancestor's memories, he had the distinct feeling the others were looking at him with worry whenever he was not looking. After the incident with Clay at that place, the bleeding effect was not severe as it was before. However, the nightmares never stopped. Desmond missed the old days, when he still served drinks at Bad Weather, when he still has freedom.

In Altaïr's memories, when the order stripped down the man's role as a master assassin, he never gave up to redeem himself. He even took over when his former mentor betrayed them. Ezio lost his family, his home. However, he never gave up, and been blinded by the seek of revenge. In the end, justice was all that mattered. Connor was naive, and that often led him to dangerous situations, but Desmond had never seen someone so loyal to the order. Connor knew the price of taking part, Achilles warned him after he killed the bandits, and the man finally accepted to be his mentor. His people left anyway, and even when everything left him, he stayed and rebuild the brotherhood.

The sun set an hour ago, night came as the stars twinkled at the sky. It was a cool night, so they set up camp just miles away from the bear's territory. The assassin gathered some firewood to make fire against the cold. After Connor placed the pelts away, he fixed the former human's loosed bandages, and even cleaned his head injury which the former bartender was utterly grateful for. The animal did not leave after that. Instead, he stayed with the assassin. Connor did not seem to mind anyway. He washed his bloodied assassin robes by the river, before hanging it dry on a branch. The assassin sat on a log by the fire, wearing a white shirt and pants, cooking their dinner. By the time the dear meat was finished, they began to eat together in silence. Desmond ate as much as he could. It was not enough though, it had been so long ago since the last time he ate after all. He looked at his ancestor's meat, gulped when suddenly more saliva appeared in his mouth as the man took a bite, chewed, before swallowing it down. He needed more.

Noticing his stare, the man paused. Connor sighed, and gave the animal his food. He had a lot of meat stored with him anyway, and it was not like cooking them would take too much time. Desmond mentally exclaimed in happiness, having his belly filled once more. Connor cooked six more meat before the animal was satisfied. It was not his fault he got turned into wolf. A white wolf in fact, he took a look at his reflection by the river. No wonder his ancestor looked at him in a way the moment they met, it was not everyday you see a wolf with a color like Desmond's in the area.

After putting the bones away, Connor sat back down on the log, put out the map and inspected it again. Desmond was actually curious of what was written on it, but he did not want to be a creep. For the past five minutes, was silence.

"You know, I wish there was a way we could communicate. I am quite curious from where you are from."

Desmond had been thinking about what was his next move, but no such luck, when his ancestor spoke. The man who had been studying the map for the past minutes, was now looking at him. He stared back.

"Where I'm from, is a place not too far from here. It's called Kanien'kehá:ka, but the king had purchased the land, forcing the people who lived there to pack their things and leave, now only I remain."

Desmond sympathized the man. He knew how much the guy worked so hard to protect his people.

The assassin's brows furrowed, staring back into the map he held in his hand. He mumbled, too quiet for human ears, but Desmond's senses had increased superbly.

"It's impossible. There's no lead no matter where I look.."

Desmond blinked, suddenly, glowing symbols appeared on the map.

 _'What the? Wait, am I using eagle vision?'_

It was hard to differentiate between his vision and using the gene from his heritage. Ever since he woke up as an animal, all he saw were black and white. The reason was obvious, but he did not mean to activate it.

 _'It's just like those codex pages Ezio took. Now how am I going to make Connor realize to use eagle vision?'_

Desmond stood before the assassin, Connor looked at him from the map. Desmond blinked for a second, hoping his ancestor would get the message. Connor's face turned into one of confusion. The former bartender mentally sighed, before trying again, longer this time. The man finally understood what he meant. The novice assassin watched as brown eyes turned gold, and widen when he saw what the animal had seen on the paper.

"This is amazing." Connor said with awe, looking all over the content of the paper. His eyes narrowed, and glanced up at the wolf. Desmond knew that expression, he wore them several times. Suspicion.

"How did you know that you should use eagle vision?"

 _'Because I'm your descendant from the future.'_

Just like before, the former bartender could only stare at the assassin.

"Are you like the reincarnation of my ancestor? To aid me?"

 _'Close, but not really.'_

"How I see it, it's possible. You may be a relative from the past, to help me when I need it. If that is the case, will there be a problem I cannot fix myself in the future?"

Desmond did not have an answer to that, he still needed to know why he was teleported three hundred years back. Although, it was possible, about the whole reason why he was sent here was to help his ancestor. It must be. Which means, what Connor asked him might be true.

"It is getting late. Tomorrow we head to the Homestead, the location on the map pinpointed there. Whatever awaits, the templars wanted it. For now, let's sleep for the night."

* * *

 _ **To be continued..**_


	3. Chapter 2 - Unexpected

**Chapter 2:**

 **Unexpected**

* * *

In the early morning, the Frontier was not as noisy as it was during the middle of the day. The sun had not risen yet, however, the animals were up and ready for survival.

The sound of his ancestor checking his equipments, disturbed the former bartender's slumber. He did _not_ want to be woken up in this early hour. Desmond finally had an hour of sleep since his body felt utterly painful last night. Super hearing was useful in some circumstances, but mostly it grated his nerves. This was one of those times Desmond wished he never turned into a wolf. Waking up felt as if someone poured a bucket of boiling water all over him.

The human-turned-animal's mouth felt dry, and keeping his eyes open hurt as well. The pain on his arm was not as painful as it was before, in fact, it faded away and left him feeling numb. However, it seemed to be swelling, more redness was beginning to show. Desmond was no doctor, but he was pretty sure his wound was infected.

 _'Great, what could be worse than this?'_

Desmond's vision started to swim, and he would had vomit on the spot, but refused to. He mentally groaned, and made his way to the river for a drink. The water was cold, it hurt to swallow it down in his throat, but it helped his situation slightly. He glanced at the side, Connor wore his assassin robes, and was eating some apples for breakfast. Raw fish were held up from the ground by sticks, it was for him.

Desmond was not in the slightest mood to eat, and this caught the assassin's attention. He blinked, he was finding it difficult to breath as well. The signs hit him rather late. Connor's brows furrowed, he finished eating the apple, and threw away of what was left of it.

"We should get going." The native American began to walk away, and Desmond followed, while gritting his teeth. This was one of those times Desmond wished Connor could understand him as well. This really suck. He panted, a few feet away, he heard footsteps coming closer. A hand was placed on his forehead, it felt cold underneath his fur.

"Are you feeling well? You are burning." Said the assassin, crouching before the animal.

 _'Seriously, I feel like I'm about to pass out. What do you think?'_

Desmond's limbs were shaking, he did not even flinched when arms surrounded him, as they stilled.

"You're not in any condition to walk by yourself. It is a long way before we reach the Homestead, so I will carry you. We have a doctor, he can also treat animals. He may be able to help you."

The wolf was carried off the ground, as his ancestor began to run. He groaned, and cringed when it came out as a weak whimper.

The sun had risen, embracing the woods with it's warm light. They made it to the road, which led to a small town.

Connor ran to a house, where a woman was sweeping her yard. She paused when the assassin appeared, and smiled.

"Good day, Connor. What may I be of service to you?" The lady held the broom with both hands, not noticing the man was carrying a sick wolf.

"Can I borrow one of your horses?"

"Of course, anything for the man who saved my husband's life from the British."

Desmond was placed in front of the master assassin on the horse. As soon as the woman bid his ancestor goodbye, Connor urged the animal to start running. Every jump made him want to spill his meal from last night. It was a long, bumpy, ride.

The journey all the way to the Homestead was not pleasant, however, they reached their destination quicker than expected. It was a miracle Desmond did not vomit during the ride, as he felt sick to his stomach. He just wanted to curl into a ball, and shut his eyes until everything just stop spinning. Connor wasted no time in heading quickly to Dr. White's place. As soon as the house came into view, the owner came out of the entrance. The man's eyes widen slightly when the assassin halted the horse before him.

Connor moved down from the animal, and carried him to the man, who's eyes widen further.

"Doctor, I need your medical knowledge with animals to help it."

"Alright, let me see."

Desmond opened one eye, albeit half-lidded, as the doctor began unwrapping the bloody bandages with careful fingers. The man smelled like herbs, some sort of spicy aroma, and a strong scent of ale. He could not take it any longer, and threw up his last meal on the doctor's pants, and both on their shoes. They grimaced.

"Right. I'll have this clean up. Meanwhile, Connor, bring the animal to the back of the house. Make sure it's comfortable."

The wolf was placed down on a table inside a tent. He felt a lot better after he vomited, however, the headache was still present. The Doctor arrived several minutes later, and continued to unwrap the bandages off of him. His face grew grim as he suspected the wolf's limb with gentle movements, careful to not make any further pain. After 10 minutes of full inspection, he faced the assassin.

"I need to know, how did this happened? The skin is severely injured, redness has started to show which means it got the burn a couple of days ago. There are also the signs of infection: fever, numbness, fast breathing, eyes unfocused."

"I found him at the Frontier, already injured. I cleaned the wound and placed bandages."

The man nodded, believing his words. Determination filled Dr. White's face.

"I need Diana's assistance with this one. Connor, do you mind calling her for me? I need to prepare the things for surgery."

The assassin nodded, before leaving the tent, and ran to Terry's house.

—

The manor was peaceful, but most of all, it hang the feeling of emptiness. There were no bickering between a boy and an old man, the sound of someone training, or the creak of the floorboards when pressed down by a cane. It started to rain, thus replaced the warm air with a cold atmosphere.

Desmond watched outside of the window with no interest, inside of a room in front of Achilles' bedroom. Exhaustion settled in his body, causing his eyes to grow heavy in every passing minute. Dr. White did a wonderful job in patching up his wound. After eating a delicious meal, the former human just wanted to sleep.

It was the middle of the day, and the presence of the rain turned the sky from sunny, into a gloomy afternoon. The wind not so gently blew against the trees, but not too harsh as to bend against it's place, followed by the roar of thunder and lightning. Due to the current weather, seeking where the map pinpointed, would be hard. Connor was at the basement, sharpening his weapons. Despite the heavy rain and the roar of thunder, Desmond could clearly hear the sound of metal sliding against the stone in repeated process from below.

For now, Desmond's eyes grew even heavier, as they fluttered shut.

—

The following day, it was clear and sunny. The wolf stayed in the manor, as it was in no condition to move around for the next following days. Connor went to where the map pinpointed it's location. It led him at the farthest side of the Homestead, where Norris and Merriam's house was located. As he walked through the river, Norris, who was looking for gold using his pan, smiled at the assassin's appearance.

"Hey Connor, would you like to grab a drink at the Inn?"

"Not now Norris, but perhaps after I finish this task."

"I'll wait right here then."

Connor walked up to a hill with no extra effort, and arrived at the wall of a mountain. It reached over a hundred foot tall, and wide enough that stretched for miles. The map stated not to go over the mountain, but through it. For that, he needed some explosives. He went back down, and asked the miner for some barrels of gunpowder.

Norris watched as Connor aimed his pistol, making the barrels explode and creating a hole– the size of a bear's cave– at the side the mountain. However, it needed to go deeper. They used mine tools to dig up the stones out, before lighting up another set of explosives. The process went on for six hours. Soon, the sky became dark.

 _'We've been digging for a long time and still nothing.'_

Connor had sweat all over his face, shoulers, hands, and back. Due to this, his grip on the hammer was quickly turning slippery. For the last hours, they completely dug a twenty foot deep cave from the side of the mountain. Both men were exhausted.

"Connor, Merriam made deer stew for dinner, would you like to join us?"

"I appreciate the offer Norris, but I have an animal to tend to back at the manor."

"It's fine. Then perhaps another time, yes?"

Connor smiled. "Definitely."

The assassin was grateful the miner helped him, and felt he should make up for not getting a drink with him. However, the man did not mind, as he can see Connor was busy at the moment.

The sun had completely set, thus it was already dark by the time Connor arrived at the manor. He made a bee line to where he was sure the wolf was resting, instead, he was greeted with an empty room, no sign of the white animal inside. The assassin thought perhaps it went into the kitchen, looking for food. He looked under the table, but still nothing. Connor searched all through the house, it could had not been in the basement, as the animal could not possibly reach the candlestick lever. He went to the entrance of the door, and stopped in his tracks when a white blur shifted from the corner of his eyes, and saw the wolf laying in the room. Connor's eyes narrowed, his mouth forming into a straight line. It stared back at him.

"Where have you been? You are supposed to be resting."

No response.

"You're not allowed to move for the next following days, else how do you suppose to heal?"

The wolf narrowed it's eyes, it was almost the same expression Connor wore earlier. The assassin rolled his eyes at it's stubbornness. Arguing was futile, and left the wolf as he make his way towards the kitchen.

The next day, luck was not on his side. The map led him to a cave where barells of rum and empty chests were stored. It could not had gone deeper, as that was where the map exactly pinpointed. He probably missed a clue. Connor searched around, yet found nothing.

That later afternoon in the Homestead, Connor sat at the inn, having a drink with Norris.

"If you don't mind me asking Connor, what exactly where you looking for?" Asked Norris, voice heavy with his accent, shifting in his seat and looking at the assassin from his left, with a bear in hand.

Connor looked at his friend. "I don't know what it is yet, but I'm going to find it. It seemed important."

"Could it be a treasure?" The miner grinned, joking. The corner of the assassin's lips curved slightly at his statement.

"Maybe, who knows."

Norris took a drink, before speaking again. "Speaking of treasure, the other week, I accidentally found a hidden cave stored with trinkets." He lowered his voice. "Do you know what the best part is?"

"They costs a lot of fortune?"

"Yes, but not just that. There are more. I found out where the others are kept, and there are a lot of them hidden around. Imagine a mountain of them." The man whispered to the assassin.

"That is good news. What are you planning to do with all of it?"

"Why, sell them of course!" Exclaimed Norris. "Though I might spare a few for safe keeping. Do you remember when I asked you to help me out when I was searching for metal for Meriam as a gift? Most of the trinkets are hidden around that area."

"It would be hard to get them then."

"It would be. I also need your help in getting them."

The assassin nodded, Norris did helped him after all. They continued talking, wasting time away as they drank. Just two friends hanging out at the inn.

—

After Connor changed his bandages, and ate dinner, Desmond walked around the manor. Not like he had anything better to do. He was stuck in the manor for a few weeks, and it was going to drive him crazy if he does not do anything other than laying around and rest.

Desmond sat before a window, looking up at the half-Cresent moon. All of a sudden, he wanted to go out. Perhaps some fresh air would soothe his troubled nerves. Limping all the way to the kitchen, he stopped in front a chair, jumped on it, and proceed to make his way to the top of the counter. Once there, he slid under an open window, as the night's cold breeze greeted him, flowing through his white fur.

The wolf made his way slowly to the front of the house, at the side, was a boulder. He moved to sat at the top of it, and looked up at the dark sky.

There was a comforting feeling whenever he was under the moon's watchful gaze, as well as it gave him strength, and power. Obviously, because he was a wolf. However, it was nothing related to magic, or any of that sort, but just a feeling. Somehow, Desmond did not find that thought strange as it was before. In fact, he was slowly accepting it, and that worried him. He did not wished to be turned into a wolf, he wanted to walk with two legs, use his hands to make drinks, and talk to other people. The possibility of not ever getting back to normal was a scary thought, or accepting this as his life from now on.

Desmond's fur helped him against the night's cold temperature, and spent the next hours sitting on top of the boulder, enjoying the lull of wind, as well as the moon's presence.

—

He was human again. He did not died, the world did not end. He was back at the temple, with his dad, Shaun, and Rebecca. They were counting on him. It was during the time before his dad went to Egypt, to acquire the last power source in a museum. At the back of his mind, a tiny voice of his own, wondered how he knew he was supposed to be dead.

"I guess Connor will have to wait." He said, and stood up from sitting on the animus. While his movements were normal, unaffected, his mind on the other hand, felt sluggish. A heavy fog clouded his thoughts. He needed to get that power source, time was running out. The voice Desmond ignored, grew stronger, saying they already had it.

"No. You three stay. We need to find that key and time is running out. I'll make the trip." Said his dad instead. He felt all of this too familiar, yet he refused to acknowledge it.

 _"Desmond.."_ A voice echoed around the walls, pulling his soul with an invisible force.

 _'That voice.. it's Juno.'_ Desmond's brows furrowed. His dad, Rebecca, Shaun, and the world, just stopped. All except for him. This was all just a dream.

 _"How well are you handling yourself as a wolf, Desmond?"_

Juno's voice was of the same, yet he could clearly hear her, as if she was speaking right into his ears. He was still having a difficult time thinking, so it took a while to register the meaning behind her words. However, she did not mind, and waited patiently for his answer.

"Waking up as an animal without any warning, transported back to my ancestor's time, you ask how I'm handling things? Quite alright, glad you asked. Everything is just fine!"

 _"I understand that you are upset–"_

"Upset? I'm more than upset. I'm angry, at you, and everything you put me through. You're so fucked up, you know that?"

 _"I did what I thought was best for you, for the world. You do not know this, Desmond, but if I had not send you back in time, your enemies will manage to open of what was meant for the future, then all your suffering would have all been for naught."_

Desmond find it impossible to negotiate. "Then why didn't it happen in the future? The temple was never opened until I arrived."

 _"Because when you saved the world, sacrificing your life created a spark that enforced a magnetic field around the earth's atmosphere. Not only did it protect the world from burning, but with that much source of energy in one place, emitted a reaction that disturbed not only space, but time itself. As was the space time continuum, creating conflict, thus changing some of the events in the past. If you do not stop the templars from getting the piece of Eden, they will open the temple, make it as their base, and the world will never be saved. The future will change, all will burn."_

Desmond's brows furrowed further, analyzing the situation, before looking up. He clenched his fists tightly, controling his emotions.

"That makes sense. Then I really don't have any other choice, do I?"

 _'This is really unfair, but I don't have any other choice, I did this.'_

 _"I'm afraid no is the answer. What you have heard and see right now, will not be forgotten the moment you are conscious. Heed my words, as this is important. Do not let the templars find what is hidden inside the temple at any cost, even if it is your life."_

Within a blink of an eye, light evaded his vision, engulfing Desmond with it.

* * *

 ** _To be continued.._**


	4. Chapter 3 - Recognition

**A/N: Hello, readers.**

 **Okay, so this is about Juno.**

 **Don't worry, I'm not going to spoil anything about the story, just to clear out some confusion. If you're wondering why Juno suddenly became good and is helping Desmond, I don't know either.. (joking).**

 **For me, it makes a lot more sense if it was Juno other than Minerva. We all know Juno plans for freedom, and she will do anything to have that. Minerva does not want that. She will not help Desmond save the temple, knowing the reason behind it. So Juno will do everything to stop anyone getting in her way.**

 **I hope that made sense (or perhaps, I created more confusion). With that, tell me if anything still confuses you.**

 **Chapter 3:**

 **Recognition**

* * *

Desmond narrowed his eyes, keeping his body low on the ground as possible, using the tall grasses around him as a cover. One wrong move, and everything he worked for will all be for nothing. He stared at his target, which was just a few meters ahead of him, as excitement surge through his nerves.

The unknowing dear bend it's neck down to tear off a set of berries from a bush, before chewing the food.

The former human carefully inched closer until he was just a feet away, paused for a second, then jumped out of his hiding spot and sunk his teeth into his target's flesh. The deer began to thrash, using all of it's strength to take the predator off of it. Desmond had no intention of letting go. However, instead of slowing down due to blood loss, the deer became more violent. Clearly, it did not wished to be eaten by the wolf. The former bartender could not wait any longer. He pushed the squirming deer to the ground, and bit deeper into it's neck. The animal howled in great pain, before Desmond literally ripped the flesh apart with his fangs. The animal laid motionless, as a pool of blood began to spread around it. He grimaced at the gruesome sight (oh well, it was still food).

Half an hour later, a satisfied Desmond walked through the forest. Fortunately for him, there was no one in sight, otherwise, he would scare the people to death for seeing a white and bloody looking wolf roaming around the Homestead. After staying at the manor for a month and a half resting, sleeping, and doing completely nothing, he felt good to be finally be out again.

Connor should arrive at the Homestead any day now, he said so after he knew Desmond was capable to hunt food for himself, and then left the manor three weeks ago. He wanted to go with him, but his ancestor left before he could do so. For the past weeks before the man's departure, the wolf had been trying to tell the assassin about his weird dream with Juno, but with Connor rarely staying at the manor and often outside to do his tasks, it was hard for Desmond. Plus, the fact that the man could not understand him.

Juno told him to keep the templars away from the precursor site, and getting their hands on the Piece of Eden. The map Connor got from the templars, lead to that artifact. The reason why his ancestor did not find it, was because there was more to the map, another piece. However, Juno did not tell Desmond where the other piece was, which meant more work for him. Lovely.

After spending a short time in washing the blood off of him by the river, Desmond decided to see how the people were doing around the Homestead. However, before he could go with his plan, he saw his ancestor making his way quickly to the manor on a horse.

Determination began to spark in his mind. Desmond followed after Connor, and halted to where the horses were kept. The man moved down from his horse, before grabbing his things by the saddle. The wolf growled, not like he could bark anyway, and got the assassin's attention.

"What's the matter?" Connor raised an eyebrow at the animal.

 _'What, no 'Hey, how have you been doing for the past three weeks?'_

The assassin grew confused, but soon glanced away from the animal, and went to grab a bucket of water for the horse.

 _'Oh what's the point?'_ Desmond growled one more time, completely frustrated.

The wolf spend the last two days glaring at his ancestor. It was nearly pass noon, this time, Connor ignored him and busied himself with a book about selling cargos. It was not completely his fault, since he cannot understand Desmond. However, he had been trying to tell him about their important mission ever since that night. The assassin's actions for not listening to him was grating his nerves.

A knock came by the door. Connor opened it, and was greeted with his first mate.

"Goodmornin' Cap'n! It's a sunny morning and we're all set to sail."

The smell of alcohol, and days of no shower, hit Desmond's nose _hard_. He would had coughed, but refused the urge to sneeze.

 _'Seriously, how does Connor manage to put on a straight face while standing near with this guy?'_

"Are the supplies I've asked already been put in the ship?"

"Aye captain."

Connor nodded. "Wait for me at the harbor."

As the veteran sailor left to head back down to the port, Desmond's ancestor made his way downstairs, to where he stored his weapons and clothes for such occasions. A few seconds later, an idea came into his mind. Perhaps the other piece lies where Connor was going. This was his opportunity. He was itching for an exciting trip outside of Davenport anyway.

The wolf waited until his ancestor came out of the basement, wearing his complete captain suit. Desmond followed after Connor outside. By the time they made it to the horses, the assassin acknowledged the wolf's presence.

"I know you want me to take you with me, but it won't be today. The crew might not.. well,"

Desmond mentally raised an eyebrow, staring at the man, who looked at the wolf with a stern face.

 _'Oh, I know what you mean. Look, just because I look like one, doesn't mean I act like one. Stupid language barrier.'_

"I know I've rarely visited the manor, and you want to go outside of the Homestead, but I think it's best you stay here."

Desmond narrowed his eyes at this. No way was he staying. Connor's expression held no argument, as he rode on his horse, and left with a last glance at the wolf. Just as his ancestor dissappeared from his sight, Desmond dashed after him, and made sure to keep a safe distance away from Connor.

By the time the former human made it down to the harbor, his ancestor was already behind the wheel, telling his crew to get ready to set sail. Desmond quickly looked around, anything to let him slip inside the ship without anyone noticing. He spotted a bunch of crates at his far side, which got him an idea. After making sure no one was looking, he went inside an empty crate. Not before long, one of the crew closed it shut, oblivious of the wolf hidden inside, and pushed the wagon to the upper deck. Soon, the ship was out to the open sea.

When the coast was clear, Desmond opened the lid, as dust particles scattered around the air. There were a lot of barrels and crates everywhere, as well was explosives, a huge amount of cannon balls, and nets for fishing. He was at the lower deck of the Aquilla. The wolf's ears perked up at the sound of footsteps coming closer. Without missing a beat, he quickly went out of the crate. A man went to where Desmond was hiding seconds ago, placed a sack inside, before closing it and turning around swiftly. He was walking right towards him. Desmond quickly left the room.

The wolf made his way to where he was sure the cabin was located. He ducked under a hammock, and slipped into the kitchen. Desmond looked around, there was no one there. Ahead of him, was the stairs that led to the upper deck. He heard the footsteps from before neared him. With no other place to hide, he wasted no time in scrambling up the stairs.

Upon reaching outside, he was greeted with the sight of the crew hauling down the sails, lifting up the anchor, and tying up ropes in tightly secured knots. Completely occupied with their tasks, they did not noticed the white animal peeking outside of the open hatch. The sound behind him was closer than before, and without any choice, Desmond leaped to the closest barrel, and tried to hide his body behind it. It was not a long moment later when someone spotted him.

"There's a wolf on the deck!"

The man's exclamation caught half of the crew's attention nearby. They widened their eyes at Desmond, and did not hesitate to pick up their weapons. The former bartender dodged, jumped, and ducked any sharp objects that were aimed and swung at him. He ran to the other side of the ship, and widen his eyes when they started to throw sharp knives at his direction, missing a hair's breath away. Some stood by and watched with anticipation, while most waved their weapons at the wolf, and decided to trap him into a corner. Desmond took a quick glance behind him, went up to the railing at the side of the ship, then jumped. Not to the ocean water below him, but through the air above their heads, and landed on the wooden floor behind them. Men gawked with their jaws open, as some stared wide-eyed. Smirking at their awed expressions, he slipped under their legs. Desmond doubted he could continue this chase any longer.

Far ahead, he saw Robert instead of Connor behind the wheel. The man had his mouth opened, noticing the commotion before him for the first time. The master assassin was nowhere to be found, thus, Desmond's hope for getting out of this mess was missing, and felt dreadful about his situation. They switched to use their guns, and he started to panic for his life as he tried to avoid the incoming bullets aimed at him. More men began to block his path. The former human jumped on the railing, did what he had done earlier, as bullets followed closely beside him. He then heard the man yelling furiously at the crew about blowing holes at the sails.

Once on the ground, Desmond frantically looked around for a way to escape. He felt relieved when he saw Connor walking out of the captain's quarters. The assassin then stared wide eyed, shocked to see the wolf running straight towards him, while his crew followed closely behind it, attempting to kill the predator with their guns.

Desmond dashed past Connor's feet, and went inside the room. As soon as he was inside, the door closed behind him. Finally, he let out a breath he was holding. A few moments later, the door opened, and in came Connor. The man's face held with clear annoyance.

"I told you to stay at Davenport."

 _'What's wrong with me coming with you? It's not like I'd get in your way, and I rather much like to be here than doing nothing.'_

Desmond continued to stare at his ancestor's unwavering heated glare. It would be too much of a hassle just to bring him back to Davenport, his crew would get confuse and questions he did not feel like answering would follow about his sudden change of mind.

"You are not to be seen outside, and you can not go otherwise without my permission, am I understood?"

 _'I'm not your pet. And after what happened back there, I doubt I'll be going out anytime soon.'_

Connor crossed his arms. "I'll be fixing the mess you made outside, I'll be back later." With a last glare aimed at the animal, he left, leaving Desmond with his thoughts.

 _'Before Connor left, he acts exactly like my dad, and not in a good way either. It's actually annoying.'_

Without anything to do at the moment, he decided to take a look around. There was nothing much, just maps, chests, and a bunch of scrolls that left Desmond curious. He itched to use his hands– _paws_ for something, like making a martini, or mixing various liquors, and perhaps take a shot for himself enough to make him forget he was ever here. Alas, such luxury will never be given to him. He glanced at the door, sighed mentally, and sat on the wooden floor as he waited for Connor. Yet again, another boring activity, waiting.

—

A day has passed, and Desmond was beginning to regret his decision about boarding the ship. His head ached with pain, as well was his stomach, and every turn or sway of the ship made him want to vomit on the spotless floor board. He had done it a few minutes ago, and Connor did not bother to hide the disgusted expression or statements he expressed, as he cleaned the wolf's mess with a rug and a bucket. Albeit the windows had been opened due to the stench, Desmond did not feel any better. Which was weird, considering he never felt sick when riding on ships, although it was probably because he was a wolf. Another thing he placed on his list about how much he hated being an animal. He heard Connor sighed.

"Perhaps you need a bit of fresh air, wolves were never suited for this kind of journey."

 _'Obviously. But how can I go outside without anyone noticing?'_

As if sensing his thoughts, Connor stood up. "I'll be right back." Bucket in hand, he left.

Desmond swallowed the saliva that gathered in his mouth. Soon, the ship swayed more harshly this time. The former bartender whined and cursed in his mind. Later, he heard the door opened. He looked up, and saw a huge crate was held in Connor's hands.

The novice assassin did not have a choice either way. Quietly, he made his way inside the crate. A blanket was covered on top of him, as Connor lifted the crate up effortlessly. The moment he realized he was outside, relief washed over him, like a soothing drink after many days of thirst. His head ache began to slowly fade away, while the Native carried him up the stairs, and placed him beside the wheel. He saw Robert stepping aside for his captain, as Connor began to steer the ship himself. Slowly, Desmond can finally open his eyes without any pain.

Through the crack, Desmond saw men either laughing, running around, or scrubbing the floors. Beside him, his ancestor navigated the Aquilla in silence. He spent the following hours watching the crew, and the ocean that spread for eternity before him.

"It will be another day 'till we arrive to our destination, what will you do after the cargo is delivered?" Asked the man beside Connor.

The assassin turned his head slightly to his first mate. "Rest, the crew deserves it after all, then we shall set sail back to the Homestead."

The man nodded, as an idea popped in his mind. "We should use the money to restock the Aquilla, she has gotten a lot of men as well, we will need to expand the sleeping quarters Captain."

"It will be done. Anything else?"

"We will also need a large supply of rum, to keep the crew cheery, you know? The sails will need to be replaced due to the wolf incident yesterday, although replacing them won't be too much of a bother so–"

"Enemy ship sighted!"

Desmond perked up from his crouched position, and looked through the crack of the crate. Far at the distance, was a ship larger than the Aquilla, with dirty grey sails. At the top, were flags they all know to well. Not a moment after the enemy ship was found, cannon balls flew through the sky, and left a deadly sound at it's wake.

"Stand down!" Ordered the Aquilla's captain. They hit the side of their ship, jerking it to the side, and left damages on the steeled hull. Without missing a beat, Connor began to order his crew for battle at sea. Men went to their stations, filling cannons with cannon balls. Before the other could fire back, the assassin ordered his men to fire, as a dozen of black balls were fired back at the bandits' ship, inflicting damages at their hull. It began to turn to their direction, heading full speed to the Aquilla.

The violent impact against each ship caused them to jerk, as some of the men lost their footing due to the hit. Not a moment after, ropes flew to the sky, and landed on the Aquilla's deck, with a hook which will prevent the ships separating from each other. Laughter sought through the air, as bandits began to jump down on the upper deck, armed with their swords. Metal clashed against each other, and sounds of gunshots were everywhere. Desmond leaped from his hiding spot and bit the bandit's leg, stopping him from slicing Robert's back, who was busy fighting a man. After he sliced his sword across the other's torso, he turned around, and found the white predator looking back at him. Recognition filled the man's eyes, as well was a hint of bewilderment. Soon, he was fighting off another bandit, ignoring the wolf for the time being. Desmond jumped on another bandit, then another, and another, each was surprised at the sight of him, as the former human made sure they will never open their eyes again.

They were too many. After his fifth bandit, Desmond glanced up, and saw his ancestor slicing his tomahawk through the bandit's leg. The man kneeled down, before Connor ended his life with a hidden blade sunk deep in his face, and was surrounded by more bandits. A man, who wore a red colored bandana unlike the rest of them, jumped down on the Aquilla's deck. The leader took out his pistol, and aimed it at the assassin's head. The former American widened his eyes. He hastily jumped down from the stairs and leaped at the man, who quickly turned his face at the incoming wolf, caught by surprise. He jumped on the man's torso. The shot was missed, as the man took steps back, screamed in fear, and fell to the ocean.

The bullet cut off a rope instead, which had been holding the mast upright, began to slid down from above Connor and the men he was busy fighting with. Desmond mentally yelled at his ancestor to duck.

Connor hit the man's face with the hilt of his tomahawk, the bandit took a couple of steps back, and held his now broken and bloody nose. Furiously, he swung his sword at the assassin with more vigor than before. The Aquilla's captain blocked each of his attempts effortlessly, and was about to end his life in a single slice through his ribcage when he froze, as if hearing something despite the loud metal clashing and gunshots, before quickly ducking down. The mast swiftly wiped the bandits off the deck, they screamed in terror, as they were thrown out to the ocean. Desmond sighed mentally in relief, and chuckled.

 _'Glad you listened to me huh?'_

Not that Connor could understand Desmond anyway, he must had sensed the mast coming to him. Without missing a beat, the assassin climb his way to the bandits' ship. A minute later, Connor jumped from the enemy's deck, followed by screams of fear from behind him, as he landed on the wooden floor. Seconds later, the ship exploded, fire erupted to the sky at it's wake like fireworks. The crew shouted at their victory, raising their swords above their heads. Now that the battle was over, Desmond hid before anyone noticed he was there.

Desmond was back at the captain's quarters, taking notice of his white fur, which was slightly covered in blood. At the sight of it, he felt the sudden urge to lick it off of him. He was surprised at that thought, and quickly pushed it out of his mind. Every day, he was slowly turning into a wolf, and fear surged through him. He occupied his mind with other things instead, when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. It stopped at the doorway, before the door opened as Connor came inside. He noted there was less blood on him than Desmond.

Connor looked at the wolf before walking passed it and to his desk, his back facing the animal. He studied his ancestor's posture for a while, and sensed the man was tired. Well, the sun just set and darkness has covered the sky, and after that battle earlier, there was no doubt that the assassin needed rest. Desmond was starting to get hungry, and missed eating deer meat.

 _'I need more than fish right now..'_ Desmond mentally sighed.

The former human did not noticed his ancestor perking up, looking around at his surroundings, before laying his eyes upon the wolf before him. There was movement beside Desmond. He looked up at Connor, and was surprised to see a frown settling on the man's face, staring down at him rather intently. Desmond began to feel _slightly_ uncomfortable with the man's gaze.

 _'What?'_

"It was you, wasn't it? You told me to duck during that time."

Desmond's eyes widen, he would have opened his jaws due to shock. Without blinking, Connor leaned back and crossed his arms.

"It was you. Pray tell, why didn't you said anything the moment we met? Were you scared of being found out?"

Desmond pushed his shock away. _'Hey, I have been trying to talk with you all those times, so don't blame me. And now that I can finally say what's on my mind, literally, is that there is another piece of Eden.'_

Desmond let his words sink in.

"Piece of Eden? What is that?"

Desmond blinked, and quickly searched for words. _'Uh, it's an artifact made by those who lived before. It holds great power and the templars want it, we can't let them have it. A lot of things will go wrong if they do.'_

Connor blinked, recognition fell upon his face. "And where is this piece of Eden now?"

 _'The map you found a month ago has a missing piece. I don't know where it is, but it's the only way to find it.'_ Desmond paused for a moment, he began to feel nervous. _'Also.. I'm not your ancestor.'_

Connor did not show it on his face, but his eyes held suspicion in them.

 _'Actually, I'm your descendant. From the future.'_

* * *

 ** _To be continued.._**


	5. Chapter 4 - Seek

**Chapter 4:**

 **Seek**

* * *

After Desmond confessed he was from the future, Connor became more suspicious towards him. Before either of the occupants could utter another word, a knock came by the door, as a man opened it before looking inside the room.

"Captain, dinner is ready." The man took a glance at the predator, who stared right back at him.

"Is that the wolf?"

Connor, who still had his arms crossed on his chest, nodded. "I will be there shortly."

The cabin boy frowned, confusion written all over his tan face, but then it was replaced by recognition. He then grinned at the wolf.

"You have a cool pet, sir."

The assassin tilted his head to the side. Without uttering another word, he nodded. The man took a last glance at the wolf, before he closed the door, and left.

Connor stood straight. "It seems they no longer see you as a threat. Well, I do not know for some of them, but I am certain they won't bother you anymore."

Desmond did not like the idea of him being Connor's pet, but there was nothing he could do about it. One of the edges of his mouth, twitched upward.

 _'Good for me then, I don't have to worry about getting holes in my body anymore.'_

At the corner of Desmond's eyes, he saw the assassin smirked at his words. Connor then faced the wolf.

"What's the purpose of your presence here?"

 _'It's just like you said a month ago, to help you. I thought that if I come with you in this trip, I'd find the second piece.'_

"You told me that you are my.. descendant. In what year?"

Desmond sat on the wooden floor. _'Year two thousand twelve. The world was supposed to end, but we managed to stop it from happening. We found the amulet you hid at his grave, we wouldn't have managed to pull it off like we did if we have never found it in time.'_

Connor narrowed his eyes. "How did you know where I kept the amulet?"

This was what Desmond had been dreading, as his eyes moved to the window at the side nervously. Darkness has covered the sky like a blanket, as the stars continued twinkling.

 _'There's a machine that allows people to see through the lives of their ancestors. We used that to find it. We would never have found the amulet without it.'_

Connor stood still for a moment. After half a minute, he leaned back. "I believe you."

The novice turned his face to the assassin slightly, studying him from the corner of his eye. He was a little surprise at his ancestor's statement, as he was expecting an unpleasant outcome. The former human mentally sighed in relief.

 _'So you don't actually mind me snooping around your memories? I mean, I don't think I'd ever like the idea of someone invading my privacy without me knowing anything about it.'_

"You misunderstood. I believe that such a machine exist, and you using it to acquire information. However my suspicions of you does not change anything after what you said." The assassin then leaned forward. "Why a wolf?"

Desmond would be lying if he was not slightly taken aback by Connor. Although, he had a point.

 _'When I woke up back at the forest, I was already like this. I was supposed to be dead. Juno made sure of that, or at least that's what I thought it was, anyway.'_

At the mention of Juno's name, the assassin perked up. "You know Juno?"

 _'She's the one who told us to find the key. The amulet. She'd been trapped at the temple for a long time, waiting. But after I what I did, she's free now.'_

Connor paused for a moment. "She made you into a wolf?"

At Desmond's nod, the Native stood straight, shifting his arms to rest them to his sides.

"The temple, is it the cave near Kanien'kehá:ka?"

 _'It is.'_

The assassin nodded, before making his way to to the door. "We will find the second piece, no matter what it takes."

—

The following day, a storm had replaced the once peaceful morning with angry rain clouds, and strong rouge winds. The sky roared, followed by the struck of lightning, as waves rocked the ship back and forth. Men ran around the deck to keep her intact through the harsh weather. One huge wave almost tried to turn the Aquilla to it's side, as Desmond watched the whole scene in horror. His ancestor shouted orders to his men, with Faulkner following closely behind him.

"Loose down the sails!"

"Tighten those ropes lads!"

"Make sure none of it comes loose!"

The sky roared yet again, followed by a bolt of lighting. Desmond was completely drenched at this point. Freezing water stuck to his white fur, making him shiver ever so slightly. He yelped when a foot stepped on his paw, and saw the culprit ran passed by him, not noticing the wolf. When more men came running towards his direction, Desmond hastily moved out of the way.

Everyone was hyped up to keep the ship intact, and were not paying attention to anything that did not involved pulling down the sails, tightening down the ropes securely, or making sure their cargo would not get thrown to the ocean. Desmond suddenly perked up when he heard someone screaming, followed by a loud splash. He ran towards the railing, and searched around the waves. A few seconds later, a head came out to the surface, coughed out the water, before another wave pushed him further away from the ship. The former American looked around for help, but it was futile. Everyone were still busy with their tasks.

Desmond then spotted a rope nearby. The rope was tied to a large fishing hook at it's end, as he grabbed it with his fangs. Running back to the railing, the wolf threw down the rope at the flailing man, who quickly took hold of it with both of his hands. Desmond bit the rope tightly between his teeth, and _pulled_. With the wave dragging the man further away, it was useless. However, Desmond did not gave in, and kept pulling the man up to the deck. Using all of his strength, he managed to moved backwards inch by inch, never letting the wave took over. Slowly, he managed to pull the man up, and completely dragged him over to the upper deck. The man was kneeling down to the wooden floor, surprised that he was yet again saved by the wolf. He expressed his gratitude by thanking Desmond.

"Land ahoy!"

The novice stood up straight, and searched for the island at the far distance. When he found it, the crew grew excited. The ship was then stationed by the dock, as ropes were tied securely.

At mid afternoon, the storm passed, and cargos were already been delivered to the port. After their tasks were finished, the sun had completely set, as darkness covered the sky. Connor has received his payment, and the crew were now resting by the inn, or simply having a drink. The assassin joined along with his men. The tavern was rather cheerful. Music were played, as some of the folks danced to the beat. Desmond sat beside a table where his ancestor was occupying. There were not a lot of guards on the island, so the former American was safe from being impaled for being a predator roaming free around the town.

Connor had a pretty good relation with his employer, as he had been in his service ever since he started delivering cargos across the ocean. Ships were mostly docked in the island either to restock, or to rest. At Desmond's side, the assassin proceed to remain quiet, speaking when someone mentioned his name, or when business were the topic being spoken about. It seemed like Connor would be busy for a while, so the former bartender went out of the boisterous tavern to explore the area. People would stare in horror at the sight of him, while some actually called the guards, who happened to be on patrol on the street.

There was no sign of the map's second piece on this island, at that, Desmond was disappointed. He expected he would find it. Alas, luck had never been on his side.

A day after, it was time to set sail back to Davenport. The crew were well rested, and the Aquilla was yet again fully restocked. The wolf was not looking forward for the trip back to the Homestead, as his past experience in the ship was exhausting for him. Not like he had a choice, so he sucked it up, and walked up to the deck. Turns out, the next following days, were not actually that bad as he thought. Although, time to time, he would get sick again. He realized the sea sickness only lasted for a few seconds, and it was not as bad as it was before. There were enough deer meat stocked to keep Desmond content for the next following weeks, although, he would rather hunt. Fortunate for them, no bandits or pirates, were seen along the way. Occasionally, it would start to rain, and one time a storm appeared. Other than that, the Aquilla made it to the harbor of Davenport without any damage.

The sun was beginning to set, and Desmond literally ran pass the harbor, excitement surging through his veins. He did not care, he had been out at the ocean for two weeks. Finally, he can go hunting again. The former bartender dashed through the road that lead towards the manor, paws rapidly hitting the ground, leaving dirt tracks behind. The wind breezed through his white fur, and heard his heart beating louder in his chest. Desmond was never going to a trip in a ship again, for as long as he was a wolf. Nope, he did not mind for leaving his ancestor back at the harbor at all. Desmond had been waiting for this, he needed his fangs sink into a deer's flesh, and taste the blood in his mouth, as he ripped his prey's neck off. He was hungry.

Brown eyes turned golden, as the wolf's senses became more heightened. He can _feel_ them. Their heart beat, the breathing through their noses, and even their slightest movements. He crouched down low, and slowly made his way towards a clearing up ahead. Before him, was a herd of deer eating grasses, oblivious of the hungry predator. Desmond grinned in his mind. This was going to be fun.

For three minutes, he remained still, and hidden inside the bushes. One deer began to walk forward, towards Desmond, who's eyes glinted. He placed his sharp paws firmly on the ground under him, ready to pounce in any second. However, before he could do so, a gunshot rang through the air. Immediately, the herd flinched, before hastily running away from the clearing, extinguishing Desmond's plan completely.

 _'Goddammit.'_

The former bartender wondered where that gunshot came from. His question was answered when he heard a rustle of bushes in front of him, before a woman entered the clearing. She was in her early twenties, and was obviously holding a gun of her own. It was the huntress of the Homestead. Desmond waited until the woman walked away, as he made his way to the opposite direction. The former human's annoyance for the disturbance of his hunt, faded away slowly. He could easily find a new big one, as this forest was filled numerous sizes of them. It was actually a piece of cake for him.

Not a minute later, he found another prey, as Desmond let his instincts took over. Before he could even move closer, the deer suddenly began to run. The former American widened his eyes. He had not even made one sound, yet it sensed him coming, and made a run for it. Pushing the shock away, he ran after the animal. The buck was fast, but Desmond had the bigger advantage. He leaped over a huge log, before dashing after the deer. He put more speed when he realized the animal was heading towards the many houses of the Homestead, and did not seemed to show any signs of turning to another direction, or slowing down. He froze on his tracks when the buck ran to the open road, where a group of people were conversing with one another. They screamed in horror at the sight of the animal running to their direction, as it passed by them, before disappearing at the distance.

 _'Great.'_ Now he needed to find another animal to hunt.

Luck was not on Desmond's side today, as he had _not_ caught a single animal. Every time he set his eyes on one, there would always be a sound that scares his prey off before he could even touch them. The former American was annoyed, and angry that he could not even get a single catch. He wanted to sink his teeth into a flesh, but he could not do that if these animals ran before he could act on it. Not only that, the sun was beginning to set, and he was still hungry. He had been hunting for the whole afternoon, and got nothing.

As Desmond aimlessly walked through the peaceful forest, his ears perked up at a sound. He made his way to the edge of a cliff, before looking down below. He mentally grinned. Two deers were eating a bush of berries together. Not waiting for another sound to erupt the peaceful silence of the forest, he made a run for it, and jumped down from the seven feet cliff. A loud cry erupted through the air afterwards, as crows flew away due to the disturbance.

The next morning, a man came to the manor. He held a letter from one of Connor's associates from Boston.

 _'You are being called to Boston?'_

The assassin nodded, as he packed food in his bag, and checked if everything else was in order inside the kitchen.

 _'Do you know why?'_

Connor made his way to the table, were he had placed his weapons. "My friend, Samuel Adams requires my help. There is trouble at Boston, and I am to investigate what is the cause of it. I suspect our enemies are secretly delivering illegal goods in the city without the pioneers knowing. I first need the evidence of their crimes, so that they will be caught."

 _'Can I come?'_ Desmond shifted in his place. _'I won't get in your way, and I might help you with this mission of yours.'_

The assassin glanced at his direction, looking at the animal expectantly.

 _'I got a strong sense of smell. I can detect where they are keeping their goods.'_

Connor turned to face him. "Very well. You may aid me in this mission, but–"

 _'There's always gonna be a but.'_

Ignoring the wolf's words, the Native continued. "You are to obey every order I give you while we are in Boston. And you cannot stray a far distance from me."

Desmond nodded. _'I'll try.'_

The assassin's eyes narrowed. "If you are caught by the blue coats because of your disobedience, do not say that I have not warned you."

The former human sighed. _'Alright, alright. I promise I'll obey, you happy now?'_

Connor frowned, then nodded. "There is something I need to finish before we take our leave. You shall wait outside when you're ready." Without another exchange of words, he left.

It was a warm, and sunny day. The forest was still, however, the animals who lived there, were not. An odd scent suddenly lingered in the air, causing Desmond's nose to slightly twitch, as he glanced at the assassin in front of him. The man was silent, as he rode on his horse. They came across the bridge that lead to the Frontier, as the river below them glistened.

Connor glanced at the wolf behind him by the corner of his eye. "From this time on, we will reach our stop while running."

The assassin looked forward, before kicking his horse with his right leg, urging it to run. Desmond followed closely behind Connor. The wolf did not mind running, as he was pretty fast for a wolf. He could outran Connor's horse if he wanted to. Desmond smirked, before putting more speed in his legs, until he was running beside the assassin. The native turned his eyes down at the wolf.

Desmond grinned in his mind. _'Does this look running to you?'_ He spoke of Connor's horse.

Connor raised an eyebrow, not getting what Desmond was trying to say. The former bartender grinned even more, before running ahead of the assassin. Not a moment later, he got the lead, while his ancestor rode his horse behind him. Every person they passed by was shocked, and terrified to see the white wolf, as they all ran out of it's way on the road. They crossed paths with a group of blue coats three times, and hid and waited far beside the road until the soldiers passed by. They made their way towards Boston.

—

They reached the entrance, where fences were lined up beside the road, and houses stood feets away from each other. At the far side, was the sight of the ocean. At the distance, was the many houses of Boston that had narrow alleys, and streets which were always bustling with people. Desmond stared at the road before him. He and Connor still had a long walk to go, however, he was caught off guard when two hands suddenly lifted him up from the ground.

 _'What the hell are you do–'_ The wolf was cut off when leaves invaded his mouth, as he closed his eyes when green blurred his vision. He began to cough them out of his mouth.

"You need to hide in there for the meantime to avoid unwanted attention."

Desmond could taste the dry, yet bitter taste of the leaves that left in his mouth. He opened his eyes to glare at the assassin, but was greeted with the same green.

 _'A warning before you put me in here would have been nice.'_

There was a moment of silence. Desmond was about to speak again, when Connor beat him to it. "Next time, I'll tell you."

It was the middle of the day. Everyone in Boston were busy selling and earning money, while others worked by the dock, or simply gossiping about recent events. The sun's heat did not hinder their daily chores, or did it stop them from doing so. Merchants called out their sales, attracting people that passed by to buy from their stand. Soldiers marched down on the streets, followed by the beat of their drums.

The door of the tavern opened, as the assassin came in. Immediately, the man sitting by the table stood up, and walked up to the native.

"Connor, it is good to see you."

Connor nodded in greeting at Samuel.

The chef, who was cleaning a bottle of glass with a piece of cloth, stopped to grin at his friend. "Connor, how have you been? You have gotten a new haircut." He added, his words thick with his accent.

The assassin turned to Stephane. "I'm doing fine, how's your shop?"

"As usual, the business has been quite well."

People were then asked to leave the tavern, as the assassins began their meeting, planning a strategy on how to get the supplies without letting their enemies know.

It was now late evening. Lamp posts were lighten up by the streets, as people were already asleep inside their homes, while some of them lingered in the alleys. At the same time, the blue coats stood alert. The music which were played in the inns, echoed outside of the streets.

Meanwhile, the assassins gathered near the harbor, as a group of men made their way towards the docks. The captain stepped out of his ship, to speak with one of them. From where the assassins stood, they could not hear their conversation. However, for Desmond, it was no problem.

The templar gave the captain a piece of crumpled paper. "A couple of more cargos are needed before the next shipment. We need everything on the list to be delivered before they become suspicious of our work."

Desmond squinted behind the crate, and watched the captain took the paper from the templar. He read it over, before placing it inside his inner breast pocket, and nodded.

"It will be done. Should I not meet my costumer at this time?"

"Just do as you were told and don't ask any more questions regarding about the boss. You must also be quick with this, deliver the cargo at the address I've given you. Remember, no one is to know what we're really doing."

Connor leaned against a wall of barrels, arms crossed on his chest, as he watched the scene in front of him. He then glanced down at the white wolf expectantly.

 _'The captain has the address to where they are keeping them.'_

The assassin nodded.

A group of men carried boxes of crates to place them on a couple of carts, before making their way through the streets, as they avoid the areas where blue coats patrolled. They turned to a corner which was void of people, before two of their men were being stabbed behind a cart. As soon as they heard that they were under attacked, the templars took out their swords, as the assassins finished them all off swiftly. Afterwards, dead bodies laid on the street, as Connor went to the captain's corpse and took out the piece of paper. They hid their bodies, and found where they had kept the illegal cargos, which were hidden all over Boston. They found more due to Desmond, when he was sniffing around. The mission was a success, and they reported of what they found to the higher ups. In the next couple of days, they were already half way through locating all of it.

The former bartender sat behind a wall of barrels, at his side, he heard his ancestor talking with Samuel Adams.

"This does not need to reach another's ears, Samuel."

"Your secret is safe with me. What is it?" Samuel stared at the assassin before him. Desmond looked around the area, and found no prying ears nearby.

 _'No one else is listening. You can say it.'_

"There is an artifact I am looking for."

The man nodded, waiting for the assassin to continue.

"The templars are also looking for it, and it's hidden somewhere in America. I've stolen the piece of the map from them a month ago, but I need to require the second of it's piece first." Connor narrowed his eyes slightly. "I need you to help me find it."

The following days, they spent their nights at an inn. Three days later, they found news which included of they were looking for from Samuel Adams. He told the assassin, that a man who worked at the south harbor of Boston, has the second piece of the map.

It was close to evening. Orange colored the sky, as seagulls flew towards the horizon. The assassin made his way to the docks, to where men were busy carrying down cargos from their ships. Desmond watched his ancestor behind a mountain of crates from afar, as Connor asked one of the men on the deck. He informed the native that their manager left to get a drink, so the assassin made his way through the street, and went inside the nearest tavern. Desmond swiftly made his way to the back of the tavern, where there were no people. He then spotted an open window, jumped on a crate, and looked inside the inn. His ancestor walked towards the counter, took a seat, and started talking to the man beside him.

"I don't know this map you speak of, I'm sorry."

The master assassin moved his eyes downwards to the man's breast pocket, where a piece of folded paper peeked out slightly. He then activated his eagle vision, and spotted a hint of gold glowed beneath the man's clothes. Connor moved his eyes back up to the man's face, with no emotion whatsoever.

"You lie."

The man shrugged. "Yes, but believe me when I say that this thing I have is quite useless. Trust me, it will not acquire you with fortunes."

"If it's useless to you, then hand it to me."

The manager narrowed his eyes. "What do you need it for mate?"

Connor narrowed his eyes as well, but it was hidden underneath his hood. "I need it, and you will give it to me."

The man then fully turned to the native, studying his form. Connor noticed he was staring at his weapons.

"I can't give it to you."

"I have money, name the price."

The manager stared at his face, however, he couldn't grasp the assassin's expression.

"I still can't give it to you."

Connor blinked, he did not expect the man's refusal to his offer. Before the native could open his mouth, the manager took a sip from his mug, and grimaced at the taste. He then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"This is the most awful ale I've ever tasted in my whole life." The man stated, and placed his mug down on the counter, the tone of his voice alone explained that he was clearly upset.

"You said it yourself, it's useless to you. It would be better if you just accept my offer."

The manager shooked his face. "I've already intend to give it to someone, so it's already sold to him. In fact, we were supposed to meet this afternoon. I planned to get a good drink before I leave, but their ale tastes like brown water, so I'll take my leave quickly than I've thought."

Desmond perked up at an idea.

 _'Connor, I know how to convince him.'_

The assassin remained seated, and listened to his descendant.

 _'You have to make him a drink.'_

Connor frowned, he had no knowledge whatsoever in making any drinks.

 _'I'm a bartender. Well, was, anyway. I'll tell you how to make it.'_

"How much is he paying for it?"

The man fully turned to him, and told the Native the price.

"I could double the price."

The manager hesitated. "I still can't give it to you, unfortunately. We already sealed a deal to it."

 _'It will really work Connor, trust me.'_

The assassin remained frowning, he was clearly doubting the wolf's idea. He then placed his arm on top of the counter.

"How about I'll pay you, and a better ale?"

The man was not sure anymore, it seemed like he really wanted Connor's offer. He really needed that drink. The manager grinned.

"You got yourself a deal."

The sun had completely set hours ago. The ship's sails fluttered against the strong breeze of the winds, as the ocean remained peaceful under the evening's embrace. The temperature lowered slowly the moment night came. The animals were placed in back behind their fences, as stray dogs and cats lingered around the streets, looking for food. Desmond laid on top of the tavern's roof, his light brown eyes roamed around the streets. The civilians continued on their way, oblivious of the predator above them.

While Connor searched the location on the now complete map, Desmond waited on top the roof. It was clear that they would have to travel tomorrow, to look for the Apple of Eden. Earlier, before they acquired the second piece of the map, the manager liked the cocktail they had given to him. It would had tasted a lot more delicious if Desmond was the one who made it, and not his ancestor. However, now thinking about it, Connor could be a bartender. Perhaps. He chuckled.

After several hours of enjoying the night, Desmond made his way back inside the room. Connor stood at the far corner, beside a table which was placed against the wall, where two pieces of the map were laid on.

 _'Did it say where it's location is?'_

The assassin nodded. "It's in a deserted island in America. I have passed this island numerous times during my travels."

Desmond grew annoyed at the thought of sailing on a ship again. He had no other choice anyway. He made his way to the other side, where a cabinet was placed, and laid down in front of it. The curtains fluttered against the breeze that past by, as the noise of the drum from outside echoed barely inside the room. Despite the fact he was going to regret getting on a ship again, Desmond was looking forward in finding the piece of Eden, which was the whole reason why he was in this situation.

* * *

 _ **To be continued..**_


End file.
